The Price of Freedom
by phinflynn
Summary: A story of family and motherhood. There are a lot of things Perry doesn't know about the O.W.C.A., and a lot of things that have just been kept from him. The biggest secret? His mother. Rating may change for violence or language; no shipping focus in the story.


**i posted this and then deleted it immediately afterwards because i'm running a high fever and i'm paranoid**

**NOW IT'S BEEN PROPERLY BETA'D**

**ENJOY**

* * *

_I miss thee, my Mother! Thy image is still_  
_The deepest impressed on my heart._  
_-Eliza Cook_

* * *

Perry had lived a solitary life as far as conversation went.

In the animal kingdom, language had a lot to do with species and location, not unlike how it worked for humans. Domestic cats spoke Domestic Feline; wild cats spoke Feline tinted with their region's other voices. Most birds spoke what was called "Avian" but was more akin to "Woodland" because it mimicked the language of several forest critters who interacted regularly. Snakes spoke Serpentine, horses spoke Equine (perhaps with a mixture of Canine or Bovine or even Porcine were they on a farm), and bugs didn't speak much of anything because they lacked higher brain functions. Many languages intersected and many animals understood more than one.

Perry spoke Monotreme.

Of course, training dictated he know other languages as well, and he spoke them fluently, but by the time he was well-enough known that the others even wanted to speak with him, he had become withdrawn and preferred to leave the talking to others. And before that... well. There is something to be said for human social circles, in that they are eternal and had made their way into the O.W.C.A. and its bustling community. No one wanted to be friends with the weird duck-beaver kid.

That was fine, though! He had his family, and they loved him, and they spoke with him... despite the fact that they couldn't understand his replies. That had enforced the desire to remain quiet. To work in the world he loved, Perry had to learn the subtleties of gestures and body language. When Heinz came into his life, that was even more important, and he got fairly good at conveying his feelings without making a sound. Being quiet was second nature.

Talking was something he had to remind himself he could even do.

So on the day of the Red Alert, when all the agents were teamed up and fighting an army of droids at headquarters, Perry could only stare in dumbfounded amazement at the other platypus who joined the ranks. She didn't even notice him before she had joined the fray, and he was left standing perfectly still in the midst of the chaos, bill partially open but producing no sound.

The only reason Perry had even been at headquarters that day was because he was personally handing it a report. He had no idea that a fellow agent's nemesis was plotting a takeover, and he was less than prepared for the swarm of droids that rushed through the walls. Sometimes Perry forgot that there were active threats going on around him every day. His life was so consumed by his _own _job that he neglected to think of his coworkers and _their _jobs. Regardless, Agent F's job had now become the O.W.C.A's job, and Perry was there to witness it.

And that other platypus.

A droid punted him across the room, and she was lost to him, at least for the time being. Perry shook off his remaining confusion and refocused his mind, then joined the battle in a flurry of punches and backflips, just as capable as he had ever been (if not more so in the company of his peers).

The fight was long and interspersed with the mad scientist behind it all appearing to gloat about his obvious eventual glory. Perry found it all _annoying _more than anything. Agent F he could forgive, but the scientist? Perhaps Heinz was the only one who really had any code about such things. Fighting other agents in general was seen as a breach of trust. And the one time he had attacked the O.W.C.A. directly, no one else had even been on staff! Having the courtesy to do a quiet and easy takeover couldn't be too far-fetched. It wasn't like the O.W.C.A. wouldn't win eventually anyway. That was just the natural order of things.

Though... he had to admit the droids were well made. The difficulty of the fight was mostly because of how hard it was to keep them down. And it would have gone on for much longer had someone not made the discovery that a grappling hook through the head disabled them completely. It was a pretty smart tactic, honestly, something Perry was impressed by. Creative thinking was the mark of a true agent.

The droids fell, the scientist screamed in fury, Agent F apprehended him, and the adventure of the day was over. And not a Heinz in sight! Perry was content to leave then, maybe have a nap at home -

"Agent Patricia!"

- until he saw the other platypus again.

It was Monogram and Carl who approached her, a translator on hand. She waited for them with her head high and shoulders back, a picture of confidence, and yet... she was in such poor shape. Having glimpsed her only briefly before, Perry hadn't noticed how _thin _she was, or how her fur stuck up in odd places all over her body. She looked like she'd been beaten and starved for _weeks. _Not to mention that ugly scar on the left side of her bill...

"How did you get out here?" Monogram asked, perhaps a bit louder than he should have. "What are you even _doing? _You know -"

From his place several feet away, Perry heard her respond, though he wasn't close enough to catch the words. He began to tiptoe closer as Carl translated.

"She says there was a structural flaw in the door, sir," the young intern relayed. "She says -"

"Oh, give me that," Monogram snapped as he swiped the translator from Carl's grasp. "Listen, Patricia -"

"Don't you _listen Patricia _me, you tosser!"

Perry heard her then. Pure, unfiltered _monotreme, _complete with Australian twinge. He'd never heard anyone speak it so fluently in all his life. At least, not since he was just a pup, still living with the family he hardly remembered.

"I knew about that flaw for _ages, _and I never used it!" Patricia thundered, loud enough for everyone to hear but perhaps not understand. "I sat in my little _cell _and waited for my daily _feedings _until you _needed me! _And what did I do then, _Francis? _Hm?"

Monogram looked to Carl, then back at the translator. "Did she just call me Francis?"

Before Carl could reply, she continued on, even louder now: "_I joined the fight! _And we creamed those robots because, _guess what, _ol' Patty figured out the grapple trick! And here I am being _reprimanded _for helping you bastards!"

Perry clucked his tongue appreciatively. Tough _and _smart. That was something to be admired. Though he was curious about the talk of imprisonment - who exactly _was _she?

"I had _every reason _to escape, and the _means _to do so," Patricia stressed, "but I _stayed _until you _needed me. _I used your weakness to _save _you. Is it so much to ask for a handshake and an 'Atta girl'?"

Major Monogram and Carl shared a guilty look as Patricia waited, silent now, her hands curled into fists at her sides.

Monogram cleared his throat and awkwardly offered a hand, which was eagerly and firmly shaken. "Uh... atta girl, Patty," he mumbled. "You really take after the Colonel don't you?"

Patricia gave him a strained smile and released his hand, her entire demeanor relaxing as she calmed down. "Oh, yes. Calligraphy was a hell of a man. And _he _didn't need a translator to speak with me." She gestured towards the device in Monogram's other hand and laughed weakly. "Nice, though. Sure it's right useful. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should get back before anyone else finds the door in its... current condition. Feel free to send a repair team by, I have Nelson penned up."

Perry was still watching her as she turned away from the two men, and in the seconds before they made eye contact, he could hear Carl mutter, "Oh _no._"

For a moment, it seemed like this could possibly be a beginning to some sort of... romantic adventure. They would realize they were exactly alike, and they would bond, and one would fall for the other, and Perry had to wonder if he was even _ready _for a thing like that. What would he say? What would he do? In a moment she would speak and -

"...Perry?"

He furrowed his brow at his name. That was... unexpected.

Patricia turned on her heel and marched back to Monogram, her finger pointed accusingly. "You told me he was _transferred,_" she snarled.

"We had to -"

"You told he he was _TRANSFERRED!" _

Worried for his cowering colleges and generally surprised by this sudden turn of events, Perry quickly pattered forward and put a hand on Patricia's arm. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but what's... what's going on? I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

Carl clucked his tongue and glanced at the translator. "You were right, sir, he _does _talk."

"And that means _someone _owes me twenty bucks, _Carl."_

Patricia turned to face Perry and heaved a shuddering sigh. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry, I don't mean to cause such a fuss. I just..." She reached out, then drew her hand back with a quiet gasp. "Oh... I thought... I thought I wasn't going to see you again."

"You weren't _supposed _to," Monogram said firmly.

"I _know _that, you fricken _wanker!" _

Perry jerked back at the venom in her voice, shocked to see such rage over something he still hadn't managed to work out.

"That's why he should have been _transferred! _So I couldn't _influence _him while I was stuck in that piss-poor excuse of a 'habitat' you stuck me in!" Patricia waved her hands threateningly, and without thinking, Perry grabbed her shoulders to hold her back.

"Ms. Patricia, he was already in a home when we realized we couldn't move _you,_" Carl explained timidly. "We couldn't uproot him."

"But you could _lie _to me?" She shook her head and spat at their feet. "And it's PATTY! How many times do I have to tell you SORRY EXCUSES FOR HUMAN BEINGS -"

"Ms. _Patty!" _Perry hissed. "Please calm down! And someone tell me what's going on here!" It was strange to speak, honestly. His own words sounded foreign to him.

Monogram and Carl traded another look, and then the Major sighed in defeat and gestured towards a nearby table that was still mostly intact. "We have some cleanup to do, but you two... you can talk. Then we'll sort this business out."

"I'll sort _you _out," Patty snarled as Perry dragged her towards the table.

* * *

Ten minutes had passed before the air was calm enough for the two to begin talking. Perry was surprised to find that Patty hadn't had coffee in ages, though as he recalled her words about being celled up, it was no wonder.

She liked it the same he did - mostly sugar and milk.

"Now, can you explain all this to me?" Perry pleaded as Patty carefully sipped from her mug. "I don't know who you are, or why you're _imprisoned, _or how you know my name."

"Of course you don't," she sighed as she placed her drink down. "That's how things are here. We don't _know _things, sweetie. Even things we _should _know."

"Tell me what _you _know."

Patty smiled and folded her hands on top of the table. "Fair enough. I suppose I should start with who I am."

"My name is Patricia, I go by Patty, and I'm older than you'd think. I was born in a facility... elsewhere, and partially trained by a battle-scarred father before being given an O.W.C.A. handler, who you would know as Colonel Nelson Calligraphy. He trained me officially and designated me a Wild Agent. I had several enemies, and I rarely stayed in any one division for long."

Here she paused, drumming her fingers on the table as she searched for her next words. Perry drank his coffee and said nothing.

"...After many years of this, it was... well, it was retirement time. I'm sure they've briefed you on it. Done for the safety of the O.W.C.A. and whatnot. Well... I wasn't ready. So I... sort of... ran for it."

Perry lowered his mug. "You went AWOL?"

Patty winced and looked off to the side. "Well, that's what they call it, huh? You have to understand, honey, it's different for females. We don't just get to relax for the rest of our lives. We go into the... the Breeding Program. Whether we want to or not."

Perry narrowed his eyes, then set his mug down and leaned across the table. "Isn't that... _rape?" _

With a sigh and an awkward nod, Patty confirmed his dreadful suspicions. "Unbelievable," he murmured. "I didn't... they _do _that?"

"Well, it's not all bad," Patty said with a small smile. "With the fertility treatments, I ended up laying five eggs. Two boys, three girls." She chuckled fondly to herself and took another sip of her coffee.

"What... what happened to them?" Perry asked carefully.

Patty hummed in thought. "Well... Nelson still lives with me in my artificial habitat. He's a very angry boy, you see, he could never be taken away without hospitalizing someone. My little trouble maker! And... Hmm... Ziggy, last I recall, was adopted by some well-meaning family. Which is good for her. She was always such a ball of energy, you know, zig-zagging everywhere, hence the name..."

There was an obvious nervousness about her as she spoke. Perry wondered if one of her children had died; that would be such a horrible thing, and perhaps a viable back story explaining her anger... unless that was just something she always did. Regardless, the topic of children seemed to spark something in her, and she seemed like she might start sweating any moment.

"And there's Dolly... I believe she went to a zoo. Actually, I think Mae did, too." Patty nodded firmly and tightly gripped the sides of her mug. "Might even have puppies soon."

"The fifth one, Patty," Perry urged. "What about the fifth?"

She smiled faintly, but there was worry in her eyes... or were those tears?

"The fifth one... I hear he's an agent now," Patty whispered.

Perry tilted his head slightly. "An agent?"

"The fifth one was _you, _sweetie," she clarified with a weak laugh.


End file.
